


Sickly Sweet

by glackedandmullered



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: Ella Enchanted AU, beware vomit, wherein michael has no choice
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-02
Updated: 2014-05-02
Packaged: 2018-01-21 16:07:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,377
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1556246
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/glackedandmullered/pseuds/glackedandmullered
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The gummy bear had been a mistake, but Michael didn't exactly have a choice in the matter. Ella Enchanted inspired AU.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sickly Sweet

**Author's Note:**

> I recently came up with an AU idea which iamtheoneinthehole on tumblr wrote out, and now I'm throwing one-shots at you.
> 
> The AU is based on Ella Enchanted, wherein Michael is cursed to follow every order given to him, regardless of the intent behind it.

It wouldn’t be too bad. 

That had been Michael’s first thought when Gavin had accidentally instructed him to eat an entire 5lb gummy bear. They had gone with him to purchase it, he had definitely not realised there was somewhere in Austin where they actually stocked those confectionery monsters, and he had laughed along with them when he saw it. He had surely eaten the equivalent quantity of the thing in bags of tiny bears before, this was just like that. 

Then Gavin told him to do it live, on a sponsor stream going out to thousands of people and, of course, Michael had no choice but to say yes. 

It wouldn’t be too bad, and it wasn’t. Up until the moment he said he would finish the head. If he had to do it he might as well make some sort of show out of it, for the audience if nothing else. That was his mistake however, as Gavin started getting excited about Michael's enthusiasm and began chanting encouragements in the form of orders.

“Yeah, do it.” Gavin laughed, and Michael took to the gummy bear with renewed vigor, the command hitting him deep, tearing off the chunks of the candy with his teeth while his stomach rebelled with a grumble.

He finished as much of the head as he could and leaned back, dropping the bear to the table. “There.” He croaked, gulping around the slimy substance still oozing down his throat. 

“That’s not the head.” Michael looked up at him, with a look of death that just screamed _I’m gonna fucking kill you_. Gavin gulped nervously but kept the cocky grin on his face. 

“Fuck off.” He snapped and Gavin pouted, grabbing the candy and shoving it back towards Michaels face.

“Eat the rest of the head.” Gavin instructed and, as he’d been told, Michael did. He took it from the Brits hands and raised the gummy bear back to his lips, everyone around yelling mindless words for the benefit of the audience while he swallowed down another three mouthfuls of the sickly sweet candy, stomach churning. The head disappeared down his throat and he sighed in relief as he was freed from the command. 

“I’m done.” Michael announced, leaning back and rubbing his stomach gently, the candy laying heavy in his guts. Everyone started commenting immediately, all white noise through michael’s brain as the red gunk in his stomach tossed and turned. 

Amongst the noise a voice said. “I think you could eat an arm at least, come on Michael it’s not so bad.” Michael groaned and laid his head down on the table. 

“Gavin, stop it.” Burnie scolded from across the table, Gavin looked disgruntled but leaned back in his chair and whined into michael’s ear.

“Come on Michael, eat an arm.” Vomit threatened to rise as Michael’s head shot up, his hands reaching out for the candy again, closing around the sticky coating and he felt a tug in his heart when they all laughed at him, Gavins grin making him feel betrayed, though he had no need to. They had no idea about his affliction, the real reason he was still stuffing candy down his throat 

They kept egging him on. There were a mixture of humoured and horrored expressions on the faces of his colleagues as bite after bite of the disgusting slimy candy slid down his throat. To say he felt sick would be an understatement, every second that passed brought on a new wave of nausea that almost threw him sideways. 

“Don’t puke!” Gavin squawked when Michael gagged over the table and Michael groaned, internally since there was no way he was going to risk trying to make a noise without letting it all go, when the command took over and he was forced to swallow the vomit that rose up his throat for the third time. 

Half way down the chest he felt like he was dying. He was sweating pure sugar, his stomach cramping in an extremely uncomfortable way, and the command not to vomit was making his dizzy with the effort to comply. He was sure they must see his discomfort by now, his shirt was damp around the neck, and he was sure he could feel tears pricking the corners of his eyes. Yet no one said anything as he continued to swallow chunk after chunk until he was sure that death by Gummy Bear was about to become a new one for the books.

\---

After another hour, Michael was near to the end, over three quarters of the gargantuan candy was stacked up in his stomach, making him feel thirty pounds heavier. His muscles felt like lead, his elbows locked as he held the remainder of the bear to his face, he knew if he put it down now he would never pick it up again and that would just add pain to his already agonised body. 

Everyone in the room had tried to help him, they had told his he didn’t need to keep going, told him he could stop; even the audience had started voicing their concerns in the comments of the stream, but they fell just short of commands, they were suggestions more than anything else and they did nothing to override Gavin in his other ear putting his words to foul use. 

He let the bear fall against his lips again as his mouth opened around it, taking another chunk between his teeth, his whole mouth ached, both from the overload of sugar and the effort of chewing so much for so long.

Suddenly he felt it, his absolute _please stop now_ limit, he had swallowed back too much vomit, there was nowhere else for it to go, but he was still forced to force it all back down. This time however, it didn’t go back, it stuck in his throat making him splutter and choke on the foul bile in his throat. Someone to his left was making squeaking noises, or at least that was all Michael could hear through the roaring in his ears. 

Thankfully the command came through loud and clear.

“For fucks sake Michael STOP!” Burnie shouted and just like that the spell was broken and Michael dropped the bear, the small portion that was left hitting the table with a squelch and Michael leaned over the side of his chair, Gavins last command rendered useless, and vomited. The candy came up in painful heaves of bright red slush that splashed off the carpet, soaking in and quickly saturating the area, leaving disgusting puddles of coloured puke sitting on the ground. He heaved again, his back arching as he collapsed sideways off the chair, just missing landing face first in his own vomit. He heard someone cry out for the stream to cut, a warm hand landing on his back, firmly rubbing the heel of their palm between Michael shoulderblades and all it did was make his throw up more, a seemingly neverending stream pouring from his throat. He felt raw, wrung out, and he was hurting in places he didn’t even know he could hurt. His sweat was cold and sticky, his skin clammy under his shirt and he vaguely heard someone whispering soothing words into his ear. As far as he could tell, Gavin was nowhere even close, if the lack of British twang to the voices swimming in his brain was anything to go by. 

The floor around him, as his knees gave way and he fell to the carpet before anyone could stop him, looked like a murder scene, bright red darkening into crimson where it had fully soaked through the plush. He identified the hand that was still on his back to be Burnie’s as the older man leaned into his line of vision, a concerned look painting his face and Michael couldn’t hear him speak, the blood still roaring in his ears; but he read the man’s lips as well as he could. _Why would you do that?_

It pained Michael to smile when he looked up.

“All for the views, Burnie.” He lied weakly, laying his head back down on the carpet, avoiding pillowing his head with his own puke and cursed this damn affliction of his.


End file.
